


Lemon Chicken

by Sue Corkill (mscorkill)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-25
Updated: 2012-03-25
Packaged: 2017-11-02 12:36:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/369043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mscorkill/pseuds/Sue%20Corkill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>O’Neill finds out what McKay said to Carter during the infamous ‘lemon chicken’ lunch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lemon Chicken

**Author's Note:**

> This story is written in response to comments/questions posed on the Sam&Jack list as to what O’Neill would do if he ever found out what McKay said to Carter during the infamous commissary scene in ’48 Hours’.
> 
> Originally posted March 2002

LEMON CHICKEN

Stanley Halvorson checked his watch—1415—time to start clearing away what was left of the noontime menu. Whoever came in late for lunch would get cold sandwiches. Not that many came in this late for lunch, but there were usually a few stragglers. The Hungarian Goulash had been popular today. Stanley never could figure out why they called it ‘Hungarian’, but people sure seemed to like the spicy beef stew on rice or noodles, or just by itself. Oh well, each to his own tastes, he decided philosophically. Gingerly carrying a pan half full of peas back into the kitchen area, he set it down carefully and returned to the serving counter, greeted by the loud sounds of the group of marines vacating the two tables they’d been occupying for a good hour. A chair got knocked over in all the commotion, Stanley grimaced, not one of them even bothered to right it, just taking their leave—and leaving the usual mess behind on the tables. He wondered who picked up after them at home? Their wives must be a whole more understanding than his wife was about those kinds of things!

Now that the dining area was empty, Stanley got his rag and started making his rounds of the room. He started wiping off tables, straightening chairs, deciding to leave the mess the marines had left for last. Stan was wiping one of the corner tables when he heard the door open. Shit, here he was hoping for some peace and quiet to clean up in and someone would be whining for food. And probably want hot food too…. Stanley looked up; ready to frown at the interloper when he saw it was Colonel O’Neill. He relaxed then; O’Neill was an all-right guy, even for an officer. Stan had heard he was back in the mountain, and from the looks of him, he must have just arrived as he was still in his civvies.

"Hey, Halvorson." O’Neill greeted him, picking up a tray and surveying the food that was still out.

Stan wiped his hands on his apron and walked over to the Colonel. "What can I get for you, sir?"

O’Neill grabbed some lemon jello and then looked around, his expression crestfallen. "Ya’ got any bananas?"

"You betcha’, Colonel." Halvorson grinned, feeling smug that he’d placed a banana under the counter when he’d heard that O’Neill was back. Stepping behind the serving area, he reached under the counter and proudly produced a banana for the Colonel.

"Thanks, Halvorson! What would I do without you?"

Stan smiled slightly, secretly pleased with O’Neill’s reaction, though he wouldn’t ever let the other man see that. O’Neill nodded at him, then went to his usual table in the middle of the room. Stan frowned; he hadn’t gotten to that table yet…"Colonel," he said urgently, crossing the room quickly. "Let me wipe that off for you, sir."

O’Neill obediently stepped back, letting Stan get to the table. "Good to have you back, sir." Stan looked around, as if checking to see if anyone had suddenly appeared in the dining room, and started cleaning the tabletop. "Things were getting a bit out of hand here, what with that Colonel Simmons bossing everyone around and that civilian scientist of his smart-mouthing everybody."

Stan hoped he’d said ‘scientist’ with just enough disdain to communicate his dislike for the man to O’Neill. And as for that Colonel Simmons, he shivered slightly, that man made his skin crawl. O’Neill nodded, and Stan took that as an invitation to keep talking. "That Colonel Simmons, now he is one weird dude." Stan gave the table one final wipe, then pulled back one of the chairs, indicating for O’Neill to sit down. When the Colonel sat down, Stan pulled up one of the other chairs, swinging it around and straddling it. "He comes in here before lunch is scheduled to start and tells me he’s ‘gluten intolerant’, which is this condition where he can’t eat anything with wheat in it." Stan shook his head, "He hands me this list of foods he can have and says to make him up a tray for lunch with these items on it and bring it to him in the briefing room! So, I’m suppose to just drop everything when lunch is scheduled in fifteen minutes and make this guy some special meal?" Stan grimaced, "How the heck did he even get into the Air Force if he’s got these problems?" He paused for a minute to catch his breath, smiling as he remembered the ‘special’ diet requisition that had come from the head SF for their current holding cell ‘resident’. He looked at O’Neill with renewed awe, that must have been some Intel the colonel had brought back with him from North Dakota.

O’Neill nodded, peeling his banana and opening one of the folders he’d brought in. Encouraged, Stan continued; O’Neill needed to know what else had happened. "But that’s not the worse of it. That civilian doctor, that geeky little guy?"

He waited for O’Neill to indicate he knew whom Stan was referring to before going on. When O’Neill nodded, he eagerly continued. "He came in here with Major Carter yesterday." That got O’Neill’s attention, Stan noted with no small amount of satisfaction, yep, he had been right in figuring the Colonel would want to know what had transpired between the geek and his major the other day. "We had lemon chicken yesterday, that’s one of Major Carter’s favorites, you know. She likes how I season the sauce. Anyway, this doctor says he’s allergic to citrus? Have you ever heard anything so ridiculous? I ask you, who’s allergic to fruit?"

Stan waited for O’Neill to either agree or disagree. "Does sound a bit unusual, Halvorson."

"Well that’s not all, sir." Stan smiled to himself when O’Neill looked at him questioningly. Obviously, the Colonel hadn’t heard what had happened next. Lowering his voice and leaning in closer, even though there was no one else in the room, Stan whispered loudly. "He started hitting on Major Carter."

Bingo! Stan smiled in satisfaction at the look of shock and then offhand interest on O’Neill’s face.

"Hitting on Carter?" O’Neill asked, his voice casual, though Stan wasn’t fooled.

"Yeah, told her he was attracted to her, thought she was sexy."

"Humph…" O’Neill frowned.

"But that’s not the worst of it. He called her a ‘dumb blonde’."

O’Neill snorted. "He called Carter a dumb blonde and he’s still walking?"

"She told him to go suck a lemon!"

O’Neill grinned and started chuckling. "That sounds like Carter."

Stan stood then, his mission accomplished. "Just thought you should know, sir, that the little weasel has been dishing out shit to her. What with her being a highly valued member of your team and all."

O’Neill nodded, his expression suddenly serious. "Thanks Halvorson, I appreciate that."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

O’Neill ate his banana, watching idly as Halvorson went about cleaning up a messy grouping of tables in the far corner of the dining hall. So, Simmon’s pet scientist had been coming on to his Major? Jack grinned, well, the guy had good taste, he’d have to give him that. But, to call her a dumb blonde? Good thing for McKay that Carter was too well mannered to do more than just insult him. He checked his watch, he had thirty minutes until the briefing, maybe he’d better check the situation out for himself, do a bit of recon work before the briefing with McKay. Of course, even with the briefing, there wasn’t much that could actually be done with their new information, except plan what they’d do, until Daniel and Davis returned from Russia with the DHD.

Jack stood up, getting ready to take his dirty dishes and banana peel over to the tray line when Halvorson called out to him. "I’ll take care of that, Colonel."

"Thanks, Halvorson." Picking up his folders, he headed towards the door, pausing he turned back towards the other man. "And Halvorson? Thanks for the heads up."

Stan grinned. "Anytime, sir."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

O’Neill went in search of the infamous Doctor McKay, starting with Carter’s lab. He really didn’t think he’d find the scientist there, but it was possible he was still working with Carter on a solution to their problem. He knew Carter had seen the video, but wasn’t sure if she’d shared it with her lab partner. Sticking his head in the open door of her lab, Jack was gratified to spot Carter’s blonde head, just visible over her laptop. He adopted a casual attitude and strolled in. "So…how’s it going?"

"Oh, hi, sir." She looked up; the slight frown that had been on her face since this had all started still there. "I’m running some simulations right now." But, she actually almost smiled next. "I think it’s going to work."

"That’s great news, Carter." Jack said enthusiastically, and he meant it. Everything that Daniel, Carter, and he had gone through would be worth it if they could get Teal’c back. Jack sat down on a nearby stool. "So, where’s your friend?"

She grimaced at him. "If you mean McKay, he’s not my friend—he’s barely even my colleague."

Jack smiled to himself at her tart comment. "So, you mean you haven’t shown him the video yet?"

"Oh, I’m pretty sure I already know what he’ll say Colonel. Besides, he’s not here right now."

O’Neill raised an eyebrow.

"Evidently there’s ‘something’ in this facility he’s allergic to and he won’t let Fraiser examine him or prescribe anything for him." She shook her head in what looked like exasperation. "He’s gone into town to find a homeopathic healer." Sam looked at her watch, "Well, actually, I take that back. He may be back by now, Hammond told him he had to be here by 1530 for the briefing."

O’Neill frowned, checking his watch, his opinion of the scientist sinking even lower. "Well, I guess we can’t let a little personal discomfort get in the way of saving a life."

Sam snorted derisively. "I haven’t had the chance to tell you yet sir, but he’s the whole reason we were placed under the forty-eight hour deadline."

Jack looked at her questioningly, not really clear as to what she meant, but having the distinct feeling he wasn’t going to like whatever she had to say next.

"He told the Pentagon that Teal’c was probably already dead, and so they were evidently just pacifying us by giving us forty-eight hours to try and retrieve him from the buffer." She glared at him. "Another bit of ‘expert’ advice from McKay."

"So…you’re telling me that McKay never really intended on finding a way to help Teal’c?"

Sam frowned slightly at his question. "No, I wouldn’t go that far, sir…he has had some interesting observations, but nothing I didn’t already know." She shook her head. "His main problem was that he had already decided Teal’c couldn’t be retrieved, so his mind was closed to any other possibilities."

So, on top of insulting his major, McKay had also condemned Teal’c to death before he’d even arrived on the mountain to provide his so-called help? McKay obviously didn’t know whom he was dealing with here at the SGC, and if he thought Simmons could help him, well, he was SOL. O’Neill needed to talk with Hammond—pronto.

He stood. "Good job, Carter. Keep running your simulation’s…" his voice fading as he turned and left the room. "I need to talk to Hammond."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack poked his head around the corner of the briefing room, his eyes lighting on an unfamiliar man sitting at the table, hunched over a laptop. Dressed in civvies…ah, must be scientist boy, he decided, evidently back from his trip to town.

Quietly entering the room, Jack touched the other man’s shoulder, causing him to jump.

"What the hell!" the younger man shouted. "Haven’t you heard of knocking?"

"No door." Jack shrugged, grinning at the slightly chagrined look on the scientist’s face. "Sorry to interrupt you…but, have you seen General Hammond?"

McKay snorted, his expression one of disdain. "He’s in his office."

Jack looked over towards the window, Hammond’s bald head just visible. "Thanks," he told McKay. "I’ll let you get back to your work."

"My work?" McKay snorted, jumping to his feet. "No one around this place wants my help."

Jack paused at the opposite end of the table from McKay. "I thought you were helping Major Carter figure out how to get Teal’c out of the gate?"

McKay’s eyes narrowed, "You must be Colonel O’Neill."

Jack nodded, then asked, his curiousity aroused by the man’s comment. "Aren’t you at all interested in what Conrad had to say about using the DHD to finish the sequence?"

"Nothing that anyone has to say will persuade me to change my mind, though the military mentality around here has trouble understanding that." He got a smug look on his face, "So, Colonel, let me explain it to you in words you’ll understand."

Jack frowned at the man’s condescending attitude.

"But seeing as how I’ll be required to use words which contain only one syllable, that might be a bit difficult."

"Try me," Jack told him, working to keep his voice even.

"Teal’c is already dead, which I have been trying to explain to your Major Carter." McKay sighed then, his expression almost wistful. "Too bad she’s not as smart as she is beautiful." Shaking his head, he gave O’Neill a baleful look. "So, in a word…no. Simple enough for you, Colonel?"

Keeping a firm grip on his temper, O’Neill merely nodded and replied mildly. "Oh, you’ve told me everything I need to know, Doctor." And with that, he walked the few steps that took him to Hammond’s office, knocking on the door.

"Enter."

Jack opened the door, quickly stepping inside, glancing briefly at McKay, who was once more bent over his laptop. Closing the door, he looked at Hammond, the other man obviously in the middle of something important, his normally pristine desktop littered with folders and paper.

"Have a seat, Colonel."

"Thanks, sir." Jack sat down in one of the comfy chairs opposite of Hammond’s desk.

"What can I do for you, Colonel?" His voice only slightly impatient, Jack noted. "If this is about the videotape…."

O’Neill interrupted his commanding officer; "No sir, actually it’s about the deal with the Russians."

"I’m not happy about it either, Jack. But our hands were tied. You know it was the only way we could get the DHD to try and get Teal’c back."

"I know that sir, that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about how we might be able to fulfill part of the agreement, sir and take care of a potential problem at the same time."

"What do you have in mind, Colonel?"

Hammond looked interested, good! Jack carefully started, "They want naqada reactor technology, right?"

Hammond nodded. Jack continued, "Well, we can’t exactly give them our expert on naqada reactor technology, now can we?" Jack jerked his head back towards the briefing room window. "But, we do have another expert available…." He let his voice trail off, allowing himself a brief smile at the look of dawning comprehension on Hammond’s face.

"I think you might have something there, Jack." Hammond smiled evilly, "Let me make a few phone calls before we start the briefing."

O’Neill stood, trying hard to suppress a huge grin. "Yes, sir."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stan wiped a blob of spaghetti sauce off the stainless steel countertop. Things were finally getting back to normal around the base, though what was normal for the SGC would be highly abnormal anywhere else, he decided, pleased with his clever observation. The lunchtime crowd was thinning out, he thought about taking a quick cigarette break as Jennings should be able to handle the few people who would straggle in, when he saw Major Carter and Colonel O’Neill enter the commissary. He grinned; he’d stick around the few minutes it would take to serve the two officers.

O’Neill came through the line first, taking his usual serving of jello—green this time, Stan noted idly. Holding his tray out for him, the colonel asked, "How’s the spaghetti today?"

"As good as ever, sir," Stan answered easily, scooping out hefty serving of pasta and sauce onto O’Neill’s plate.

"That good, eh?" O’Neill commented dryly.

Stan nodded, waiting expectantly for Major Carter, only to hear her sigh heavily and say, "Stan?"

"Yes, Ma’am?" he asked nervously, what could be wrong?

"There isn’t any blue jello!" The shelf in front of her held every color of jello except blue.

Stan felt a quick rush of relief and smiled at her. "I think there’s some back in the kitchen. Jennings!" He called for the other server, "Finish helping Major Carter." He turned back to the now-smiling woman. "I’ll bring it right out to you, ma’am," he reassured her.

Stan returned minutes later, not having to search hard to find Carter or O’Neill, as the dining room had practically emptied in the time it had taken him to locate some raspberry jello for the major. Taking the jello over to their table, he sat it down with a flourish. "Here you go, Ma’am!"

"Thanks, Stan." The smile she bestowed on him lit up her entire face.

Stan grinned dazedly back; thinking if he wasn’t a happily married man…. But he was, so none of those thoughts! Shaking his head to clear his mind, he looked around the nearly empty dining room—only one other person at a far table—now was the perfect time, decided. He leaned down and winked conspiratorially at O’Neill.

"Looks like our plan worked, Colonel."

"What?" O’Neill looked up from his plate, his expression confused. Stan could feel Major Carter’s eyes on him as well.

"You know, our plan to get rid of that scientist guy…." Stan reminded him.

"Ah, that plan," O’Neill finally replied. "Right." Stan watched as O’Neill glanced quickly at Major Carter, then turned back to him. "Thanks for the input in that little matter, Halvorson."

Stan felt his chest swell with pride, O’Neill appreciated his input! "Anytime, Colonel," he replied as he straightened up. "Anytime."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So, what was that all about?" Sam asked, after Halvorson had returned back to the serving area.

Jack paused momentarily, then took another mouthful of spaghetti, chewing carefully and buying some time before he replied. "Ah, just some…" he didn’t even get to finish his response when her eyes narrowed.

"He told you, didn’t he?" She sat her fork down and just looked at him accusingly. "He told you about…." She paused for a moment, as if she was wondering what to say before finally settling on, "…the lemon chicken?"

Lemon chicken? So that’s how she wanted to play it? Okay, Jack considered his next words carefully. "Yeah, Halvorson told me he overheard you and McKay discussing ah…food allergies."

"And this caused the two of you to formulate a plan?" she countered; and Jack couldn’t tell if she was teasing him or not, but her eyes had started sparkling and she was looking at him with that indulgent expression she often used with him.

Figuring out she’d find out from Hammond sooner or later, he decided to tell her the truth—at least most of it. "Well, Stan’s information," he caught the quick flash of humor in her eyes before she suppressed it and once more looked serious, "got me to thinking." She actually started smiling then, and feeling encouraged, he continued a bit more eagerly. "Yeah, I know, novel concept." She laughed then and he relaxed even more. "Anyway, I figured if the Russians wanted to learn naqada reactor technology, well they’d need an expert." He grinned as her eyes widened in sudden comprehension.

"You didn’t!" she accused him, her sparkling eyes taking the sting out of her tone.

"Hey," he told her, holding his hands out in supplication, "I only suggested to Hammond that maybe there was an expert we could send to help them." He smiled triumphantly at her, "That’s all."

The sweet smile she gave him warmed his insides. "Colonel…"

He held up his hand. "No thanks are necessary, Carter." He winked at her, delighting in her momentarily unguarded response. "All part of taking care of my team."

THE END


End file.
